Jason Walker gave Brian Clark a mysterious wink: “Brian Clark, help me write a love letter, will you? You write it first and I’ll copy it over. Also, aren’t you saving up to buy that set of ‘Famous Classical Poetry Masters’ from Zhonghua Book Company? There are thirty-one volumes in total—how about I give you ten of them? That’s what friends are for, right?”

Chapter 6 Henry Webb lives in a very large villa...

Henry Webb lives in a very large villa.

A stern-faced security guard stands at the entrance, keeping out idlers, but the occupancy rate in the neighborhood is quite low. First, the location is a bit remote; second, the price is steep. To the east is a river, and some people like to sit along the bank for half a day fishing, even taking the subway at dawn to grab a spot. One year, an early-morning fisherman found a woman’s corpse in the river, so bloated it was unrecognizable, which disgusted everyone and caused the number of people to drop sharply.

Henry Webb’s house happens to be on the east side. When he opens the window, he can see the lush vegetation outside, wild and vibrant, the vitality almost frightening. When the corpse incident happened, everyone was on edge. That year, Henry Webb was in his first year of middle school, living alone in the villa, not knowing what fear was.

It was the third week of the new semester, and the Mid-Autumn Festival break was coming up.

Henry Webb called in a housekeeper to clean the rooms; he was going to spend the festival alone.

But David Webb called and told him to come over for a meal.

Henry Webb agreed over the phone with a blank expression.

Actually, it wasn’t even the Mid-Autumn Festival yet; David Webb had called him over in advance.

It took twenty minutes by taxi to get to the other district.

The stepmother was a young and beautiful woman, twenty-eight years old, who had been with David Webb for ten years. Henry Webb wasn’t sure which number woman she was, but she was at least his current partner. After all, they had a son together, eight years old, chubby, with a terrible temper and terrible grades, constantly being called in by teachers. Tuition at the private elementary school cost tens of thousands a year, a lot of money spent, but unfortunately, David Webb ended up with a fool for a son.

Henry Webb really didn’t want to be so harsh toward a child, but when the door opened and that little fat boy arrogantly demanded to know if he’d come to beg for food, a strong sense of shame washed over him—like having his bones scraped—for a proud young man.

He almost wanted to kick the brat.

The stepmother had a kind of frugal enthusiasm. She called him “Qingyue” and lightly scolded the little fat boy.

“I know everything. You’re here for money. You’re just a beggar. If Dad doesn’t give you money, you’ll have to be a beggar.” The little fat boy didn’t forget to jump onto the sofa and give him the finger with a vicious look.

Who knows where he picked up such bad habits.

Henry Webb shot him a cold glance.

At that moment, David Webb’s car slowly pulled into the yard. The stepmother quickly called out “baby,” gave a look, and the little fat boy immediately sprang up and ran to the door, shouting “Dad!”

Henry Webb had no choice but to get up. He walked out and stood on the steps, looking at the woman’s smile, the child’s smile, the briefcase handed over, the skirt hem fluttering in the wind, and the man’s gesture of picking up the child. All the sounds, expressions, even the faint scent drifting from the garden, seemed like a barrier, completely separating him from another world.

This feeling was no longer loneliness or solitude, but more like indifference. The boy watched everything unfold with complete detachment, and when David Webb walked over, he called out, “Dad.”

David Webb was tall and well-maintained, with just the right amount of muscle—he could beat someone up without breaking a sweat.

One day he’ll grow old, the boy thought coldly.

Henry Webb ate a meal with the others, all just for show. At the table, David Webb asked him a few questions about his studies. In the recent physics quiz, Henry Webb was first place.

This first place, to David Webb, only meant that at business dinners, when others brought it up, he could receive a few polite compliments. No matter how much he resented Henry Webb, the annoying thing was that Henry Webb was too much like his mother—highly intelligent, and studying came effortlessly to him.

And the little fat boy’s lack of progress made even being first place feel like a thorn in his side.

“I heard that at your opening ceremony, the school had you give a speech, and you rambled on, making it awkward for the leaders and teachers. Is that true?” David Webb asked slowly.

He was very clean and particular—his leather shoes were spotless all year round, his suits always perfectly pressed without a wrinkle. David Webb’s image was that of a successful, elite middle-aged man.

Henry Webb didn’t know how much others saw through this man’s hypocrisy, but he knew it all.

The calmer the opening, the more it hinted at the storm to come.

He paused with his chopsticks and replied to David Webb, “The script was too long, and my classmates had already been standing in the sun for a long time. I didn’t want to be cursed at behind my back.”

“So, you think you’re justified.”

Henry Webb said nothing.

“If your old man wasn’t capable, and people didn’t give me some face, do you think you could be so arrogant?” David Webb sneered at him, his gaze sharp as needles piercing the skin. Only then did Henry Webb realize this was a trap, a banquet set up to pick a fight. Was it really necessary to treat his own son as an enemy? Henry Webb no longer wanted to understand. He only knew that at this moment, he couldn’t talk back. He had to endure, restrain himself—he was still spending David Webb’s money, still living in David Webb’s house.